


Time Turns

by LeafZelindor



Series: Time and Bound [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Season/Series 02 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafZelindor/pseuds/LeafZelindor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Sherlock's fall, Greg finds himself spending time with Mycroft. Awkward drunk confessions. Personal revelations. Somewhat Prequel to "Getting Together". Set in the same Universe. Standalone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Turns

It was hard to say when exactly things changed. Well, at least for one Detective Inspector. The relationship he had found himself in just grew on him. It came out of nowhere. He was rather certain that if he voiced this his lover would disagree with him. He would get told specific situations and points where things did change, things did happen. That it wasn't as gradual as he himself felt it was.

When they'd shared their first kiss he'd still be rather certain of his heterosexuality. His divorce had been completed, one of his dearest friends had just died. He had been thinking of hitting the pub to try and find some company when a dark car pulled up next to him and a very beautiful young woman had told him to get in. He knew her of course, and knew she wouldn't respond to an advance. It was rare that Mycroft Holmes summoned the Detective Inspector to see him. John Watson had become the more usual victim. Though that seemed pointless now.

He found himself delivered not to the usual warehouse, but the entrance of a rather posh townhouse. Anthea ignored him, typing away on her blackberry as always. Greg sighed to himself and got out. He knew it wasn't a mistake, but it certainly felt odd. Fixing his tie, which he rather wished he could have chucked before this, the greying DI made his way into the door and reached to knock with the ornate lion head knocker which was attached.

The door opened before he could. A butler perhaps? Who had those, really. He was gestured to enter so he did, looking around. “Mr. Holmes will see you in his study sir. This way.” The man who had allowed Greg in moved ahead of him showing him up the stairs and to the door of a room. The door was opened. “Detective Inspector Lestrade sir.”

“Let him in, and go on.” Mycroft's voice actually sounded a touch less composed than Greg was used to hearing. It was almost as if the man had been drinking. He nodded to the butler and moved inside, letting the door close behind him. Behind the desk, Mycroft Holmes looked older than usual, more worn down. It was discomforting to see the British Government looking anything less than his usual controlled self.

“Sir...”

“Mycroft.” The voice stalled him. “please... This is not a business call. Call me Mycroft. May I call you Gregory?”

“I'd prefer Greg....” The Detective Inspector moved over to sit down, if this wasn't formal he was going to be comfortable.

“Hmm.. Greg...” Mycroft tested it. It was more than obvious he didn't generally use common nicknames. Greg couldn't help wondering if he ever did. The other thing that struck him when Mycroft repeated it was the way it rolled from the politician’s tongue almost caressing it. That was... new...

“So um, you wanted to see me?” Greg asked slowly, watching the movements of Mycroft now. The younger man had a glass in his hand. There was some liquid in it, amber colored.

“Drink?” Mycroft offered, gesturing rather lazily to a cut glass decanter with several matching tumblers. “Here,” he shifted to refill his own tumbler then filled another and offered it to the DI.

“Thank you.” Greg took the glass and relaxed back into the chair. “Mycroft what is it?” He let himself cautiously sip the liquid. It was smokey, smoother than anything he usual spent his money on. The burn down his throat was satisfying though as he swallowed.

“I wished to see how you were doing. I'm afraid I was distant at the funeral.” Mycroft said a bit to briskly. Greg blinked and gave him a curious look now. “I.. I have reason to believe Sherlock valued you as a friend.”

Greg quickly took another drink of the liquor he'd been offered. “....I am glad he would have thought of me as such.” He murmured then letting himself feel the slow burn that started to crawl through his fingers. “He was, He was a good man.”

“He would disagree.” Mycroft murmured now, his eyes fixed on something beyond Greg. “Sherlock was selfish.”

“No he wasn't. He just...”

“Greg...” Mycroft fell quiet he knocked back the glass and moved with a now slightly unsteady hand to refill it. “My brother, never did anything without a reason. I deeply appreciate what you did for him, helping him those years ago. For allowing him to continue helping you.”

“Mycroft how much of this have you drank?” 

“It was full this morning?” Mycroft looked at the vessel and eyed it a touch unsteadily. The decanter now sat with perhaps a third of it's volume remaining. Greg sighed and reluctantly downed what remained in his own tumbler then got to his feet.

“I think you should go to bed Mycroft. We can talk when you haven't been drinking so much.” Greg moved around the heavy desk and offered a hand to the other man. Mycroft considered him a long moment then mimicking his guest's action he knocked back his own glass and it landed on the desk with a sharp clatter. 

Greg almost shook his head, but to his surprise instead of stubbornly trying to get up on his own a soft firm hand took hold of his own. Automatically the DI pulled up intending fully to haul the other man to his feet. He misjudged Mycroft's weight a touch and as the man shifted into the pull. The somewhat thinner politician fell against him. Greg shifted throwing an arm around him in a steadying manner, stumbling back slightly. Mycroft grunted, but didn't seem inclined to pull right back. Greg managed to stabilize them, his arm very solidly around the waist of the other. He looked down at Mycroft, perhaps the man was further gone than he had expected. The ginger-blond man blinked at him somewhat blearily, then there was another shift of weight, and Greg found himself tripping back and landing hard with a grunt, Mycroft on top of him and the younger man's lips pressed against his in a drunken attempt.

Greg felt a jolt through his body, surprise, almost enjoyment. The gesture was unexpected, sloppy. Mycroft's lips where very soft against his own somewhat chapped ones. He almost started to return the affection but stopped himself. This was Mycroft Holmes kissing him, this was a man kissing him. This was not at all something he expected. Confusion ran rampant inside his head, then suddenly he realized Mycroft wasn't doing much, and felt rather like dead weight. Ginger hair shifted past the corner of his eye as the man's head drooped. “Mycroft?”

No answer, not even a groan. Greg swore softly and shifted. Rolling them so that Mycroft was on his side, a cursory exam told him that the man had simply passed out. To think, the british government unconscious in the middle of the day from drinking. Well.. this didn't leave very many options. Greg got up and looked around the study some. It wasn't large and the only door was to the hall. Not connected to a bedroom then. Greg carefully peeked out into the hallway, no servants. Warily he glanced back at the man passed out on the floor. What room...

“Detective Inspector can I help you?” A voice startled him. He whipped his head back around quickly to blink at the butler whom appeared with a tray from, somewhere.

“Ah, Well It seems Mr. Holmes has... need of his room. I would help him but I don't know which one?” Greg managed, he congratulated himself that he didn't sound too strange.

“Third door on the left sir. I'll put the tray in there and turn down the bed.” The butler murmured already turning that way. Greg watched him go if only to make sure of the room before turning back to try to get Mycroft up without hurting the other man somehow. Fortunately the drunken Holmes stirred some at the movement and Greg managed to get the man to lean on him. His arm settled around Mycroft and he helped the man shuffle from the study and down to the room He'd been told to put him in.

Mycroft pulled away with a grumble stumbling to the bed and all but falling into it. Greg shook his head and moved over to help the man roll over helping him out of his shoes. He'd do more, but it felt like an intrusion. Mycroft grumbled into his pillows and was asleep again before Greg managed to get a blanket over him.

The DI sighed and moved back away from the sleeping man. He'd come back later, hopefully when Mycroft was sober. Maybe. He turned and hurried out now, not hearing his name fall from the sleeping man's lips in a pleading tone.

Two days later, Greg Lestrade let himself have a bender. He'd run into John, who looked worse for the wear and he took him to the pub. Fully intending to cheer the younger doctor up with a few rounds and maybe the number of a pretty girl. John had as he hoped, found a lady to flirt with. A Miss Mary Mortenson, librarian and quite pretty. She seemed quite attracted to the doctor too. With that mission accomplished and feeling a bit light on his feet Greg moved to head on home. His small flat wasn't too fancy, but it was a roof. Not like the house he'd had with his ex wife. It suited a bachelor though. 

He contemplated if he had anything worth eating. He was not fully aware of how his walk listed to one side until he realized an umbrella was in his vision. An umbrella which was in front of a pair of shiny shoes. Wobbling slightly Greg let his eyes slide up over a nice suit, not suited for this area of town. Briefly he considered nice lips, lips which had haunted his thoughts and dreams far to often in the last two days. Then finally to the eyes of the man whom it all belonged too. 

“Lestrade, could I have a moment.” Mycroft's voice was soft, brisk. So business like. Greg distractedly wondered what it would take to make him lose that tone. Not the tone from two days ago, a true loss of control. Impassioned. He realized abruptly that the other man was waiting for his response. 

“I'm not sure ...I ah am in a fit state.” He started. Then he saw the faint curve of a smile on those lovely lips.

“I believe we can talk... My car is just here.” Mycroft gestured with one hand. Greg nodded a bit, and let himself be lead to the rich shiny car. They settled into it and it started to move. Greg blinked at that. “We'll take you home of course.” Mycroft informed. “I wished to thank you for your.... discretion the other day.”

“My... Mycroft why would I have been anything less than... ah. discreet?” Greg asked, feeling a touch confused. He certainly wouldn't have told anyone.

“...I was, I was very upset. And I behaved rather foolishly. I apologize for any discomfort I have caused you.” Mycroft started. Greg lurched slightly pressing two fingers over his mouth, stilling his voice.

“Don't. Really. You have nothing to apologize for.” Greg said softly. He doubted that anyone in the Holmes family apologized often, but he really found it unnecessary. “We've all been handling this... differently.” His fingers dropped slowly, he didn't notice the eyes which followed them.

“God I wish I was more sober.” He rubbed his face with his other hand. Mycroft watched him closely now. “Because what I'm going to say next I want you to believe.”

“I would believe anything you said Greg.” Mycroft assured with a murmur. For a moment the greying detective gave him a quiet look. Trying to ascertain how truthful he was being. “If you wish to come see me tomorrow when you are sober?”

“No, I need to say this now.” Greg murmured. Mycroft simply inclined his head. If he wanted to continue he would not be stopped. “I have been thinking about.. uh... our kiss. Awkward as it was.” Greg sighed softly. “I liked it.....”

“I am fully aware that you are straight, Greg.” Mycroft stated, watching the other man still. For a moment or two the DI just sat there then a smile touches his lips.

“You Holmes' just have something about you then. Eh?” He offered a smile to the British Government. A smile which was returned almost shyly. It was thrilling. He liked it. “Mycroft...”

“Dinner, tomorrow, Would 7 be too late?” Mycroft interrupted quickly, he almost thought the other man was blushing.

“Seven's fine. If nothing comes up...” Greg agreed, he could feel his own cheeks warm a bit more than they were from drinking. He shifted. “I can...”

“Text me if there is a problem.” Mycroft assured. He glanced out the window. “We have arrived.”

Greg wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Mycroft already knew where he lived. He almost wanted to ask the other man in. But that wouldn't be wise right now. He shifted to get out of the car. Mycroft's hand stopped him with a light pressure. “Don't forget.”

Greg couldn't help a smile. He could hear the, uncertainty in the man's voice. He twisted then leaned in and very very briefly let his lips brush over Mycroft's. “I won't.” He murmured, then he was out of the car before anything more could be said or done. Weaving his way up to the building with some ease. He imagined he could feel Mycroft's eyes following him. He knew if he looked back though, the car would be gone. It didn't matter he needed to figure out if he had anything suitable to wear for a dinner date with the British Government. That was a sobering thought.

Of course it didn't matter what he had chosen to wear. A last minute issue had come up with work and Mycroft picked him up at almost 9 in the evening. He was still in his suit and tie which Greg yanked at, loosening it some. He quickly unbuttoned the top button, then blushed as he realized how closely he was being watched. “I hate ties...” He sighed. 

“Then it is good that I am not taking you somewhere one is required.” Mycroft murmured. Greg blinked then looked a him. He honestly hadn't expected dinner this late.

“Still dinner then?” He asked. Mycroft gave him a light smile then gestured outside. The entrance to a pub was in front of them. A pub! A nice one mind you, one that served a bit more than just beer and some heavy snacks. It was a pub none the less. 

“Really?”

“I happen to like their Shepard's pie.” Mycroft mused, then waited for Greg to get himself out before joining him. Together they went into the pub. It was quiet, and a bit more intimate than the places Greg usually frequented. They were directed to take a corner table. One that Greg noticed gave Mycroft a good view of the room yet some form of privacy. 

“Ah, Mr. Holmes. It's been a few weeks. Welcome back.” A cheerful chubby man with red cheeks came over to them. Greg glanced at the man taking in his comfortable yet slightly expensive clothing. The owner then. “And you brought a friend! Not one of the usual sort. Though you only bring them for lunch.”

“Harold please. I would like my usual... bring one for my friend as well.” Mycroft stopped the man before Greg could start blushing though he was curious. Did Mycroft do work here or something? Harold seemed delighted to serve and hurried back to the bar. “I occasionally do business lunches here. It's surprisingly relaxing.”

“Oh.” Greg shifted, then glanced around. “I can see that.” He looked back at his host. The ginger haired man easily settled back giving him a bit of a smile. It seemed that Mycroft Holmes was a bit of an onion. Greg was fortunate enough to be allowed to see this next layer. “So..”

“I will be straight forward with you.” Mycroft murmured. Stopping him from saying anything. “And if that makes things far to awkward I understand and we can return to a business only relationship.”

Greg found himself wondering how often Mycroft reached out like this. It sounded so formal. He let himself smile. He was far less troubled with his feelings toward the elder Holmes brother than he had expected. “And that is?” Greg watched the other relax some as Greg's own posture didn't stiffen, his eyes didn't look away.

“I know... our schedules would be difficult, and it would be best to keep things quiet. However, I would like to see you less professionally.” Mycroft started. Greg laughed and reached across the table. He doubted their privacy would get pushed all over the papers here. His hand covered the politician's gently.

“To formal. Just use layman's terms if you can.” He encouraged. Mycroft briefly looked surprised and even a little uncomfortable.

“I would like to, well at least pursue a physical relationship. Though dating would be nice.” Mycroft murmured the second part. Greg found himself blushing some and then he gave the hand under his own a squeeze.

“Okay.” He settled back as their drinks arrived in front of them. Harold seemed to be the most bubbly sort of host. Quickly asking if he should bring the usual meal as well. Mycroft paused for a moment their eyes met then he nodded to the man and confirmed. Greg quietly picked up his glass and took a sip. Pleased to find that it was similar to what he'd had in Mycroft's office. Harold left them be. “This is a date you know.”

“I'm aware.” Mycroft let himself chuckle briefly. It looked good on him, relaxing and looking human. Greg decided he wanted to see more of that. He let his mind wander to the thoughts of the other day, of getting a chance to see and hear Mycroft come undone. It was a surprisingly thrilling idea. “I want to be... certain of your feelings on this.” Mycroft murmured.

“Well as you pointed out I was, well strictly hetrosexual before.” Greg paused. “I mean I noticed men, but I had my wife and I thought that was what I wanted.”

“But you are interested in me.” Mycroft stated simply. Greg let himself nod studying the other man again. He was interesting to watch. Guarded at the moment, nervous then.

“As I also said. You Holmes boys... There is something about you.” Greg took another drink. “John tries to act like Sherlock was just a friend...”

“He loves him.” Mycroft stated simply. “Sherlock loved him too. In his way.”

“Exactly.” Greg agreed. “And John is pretty damn straight. He even has a reputation that I know isn't boasting because a few of his army buddies told me.”

Mycroft couldn't help a soft chuckle. Then he shook his head. “This is supposed to be about us...”

“Yeah, well it is.” Greg took a slow drink and watched him quietly. “Mycroft, I like you. I promise.”

“You.. are trying quite hard to assure me.” Mycroft murmured. Greg held his eyes for a long moment. “Perhaps to assure yourself?”

“No, I want you to know I'm serious.” The detective inspector responded. Then he shifted a little, he could feel his cheeks flushing a bit. The politician across from him considered him a long moment.

“Perhaps we should get dinner to go then.” Mycroft signaled the owner, and to Greg's surprise boxes where delivered to their table quickly. Money was handed over, drinks where swallowed. Greg found himself in the back of Mycroft's car blinking.

“Where are we going?” He asked slowly. Mycroft chuckled softly.

“Somewhere that it's safer to get to know each other, and drink a little more than I would in public.” 

“I do hope you won't pass out on me again.” Greg murmured. Mycroft actually looked a little embarrassed at that and then shook his head.

“No, and I intend for you to be just as pleasantly warmed up as I when we're done this evening.” The tone of Mycroft's voice made it quite clear that he meant in more than the fashion which alcohol would warm one up. Greg felt a tug inside of him, a nervous pleasure at the idea. They quietly road to the townhouse. Mycroft's butler was not evident. His umbrella joined several others in a holder. 

Greg managed to relax a bit as they settled at the island in the kitchen with their food. Mycroft did gently insist they should eat some of it. Though both picked some, glasses of brandy being refilled faster than food was disappearing. “I believe there is some cake in the fridge...” Mycroft abruptly announced. Greg blinked at him, his eyebrow going up. Mycroft gave him a little smile. “Take the brandy, go into the den..”

“All right...” Greg murmured, getting up slowly he found he felt a little off center. He was able to pick up the glasses and the decanter Mycroft had produced before he headed to the other room. It was comfortable, with plush couching and a large tv on the wall. A fireplace was underneath the electronic device, a low fire crackled in it already. Greg slowly put down the glass items in his hand moving to look at the fire a little closer. It was real. The smell was pleasant. He sighed a little letting his fingers trail along the mantle a bit. Rich and warm, just like the man who lived here. A man he was finding himself very interested in. The soft clink of dishes on the table made him glance over his shoulder. Mycroft had lost his suit coat somewhere, and was setting two plates of cake on the table. Greg blushed a little as his eyes slid over the man's form. For all Sherlock always saying Mycroft was overweight the man looked fine to Greg, quite fine...

“Join me?” Mycroft's voice was soft, the man himself had moved to sit on the couch. Greg swallowed and moved back over, easily settling into the spot left for him. He was brightly aware of how warm his side felt, the side with Mycroft on it. He accepted one of the plates of cake and took a slow bite, blinking.

“Fantastic isn't it? My cook is extremely skilled...” Mycroft murmured. Greg glanced at him just in time to see the other man take a bite. The expression of bliss was beautiful. He wondered if he could duplicate such an expression some how.

“Delicious.” Greg agreed softly, he focused on taking another bite. It was surprisingly easier to eat the sweet than the rest of their meal had been. Greg didn't even particularly like sweets on a given day. Mycroft finished first, putting aside the plate to pick up his brandy. For a long moment it was quiet.

“I believe you should know that you're not the first man I have gotten involved with.” Mycroft murmured. Greg blinked and then settled back just considering the other for a long moment.

“That's... all right.” Greg nodded slowly. He shifted a bit then found his own glass and took a swallow. The burn had gotten less intense. It just added to the warmth of anticipation that was building inside him. He didn't know what would happen. As of yet he'd only done cursory investigation of what exactly was involved in homosexual relationships. He wasn't sure what Mycroft was expecting either. “Ah, well at least... one of us knows what to expect?” He felt like a schoolgirl talking to her crush now.

“I don't expect anything Greg.” Mycroft quietly assured. “I would like to just, see what happens? Unlike Sherlock, I don't need to know everything's proper sequence.” Mycroft quietly put down the glass, then shifted a bit. Greg couldn't help just watching him some. “I would, however, like to kiss you.” A blush stole across the politician's cheeks. Greg felt his own heat up some as well.

“Okay.” He murmured softly, putting his glass aside. A flutter shot through him. It was a strange mix of anticipation and nerves. He was a relatively assertive man; he generally did things because he wanted to do them. But right now he wanted the other to have the control. He wanted Mycroft to make the move. To his relief, the other man realized it. There was a squeak of leather then those lips, those lips which he had thought of often since their first awkward kiss, were on his. They were soft, they tasted of cake and brandy, Greg was startled with himself with how he returned the kiss and tried to deepen it quickly. Mycroft wasn't stopping him, his tongue swept out again this time finding no resistance of flesh. His hand moved to slide into well styled hair. It was softer than the product made him think it would be.

It felt natural to kiss Mycroft. It was easy and both of them were breathing a touch heavy when they finally pulled apart. Greg's hand slid slowly from Mycroft's hair. Fingers brushed against skin slowly. Mycroft's eyes were closed and he leaned into the caress. He was beautiful. Greg initiated the next kiss, it was easy now. So easy to do this, easy to touch this man.

Somehow they found themselves settled back. Greg was on his back relaxing against the leather and a throw pillow under his head. Mycroft was settled over him. His weight felt good. Greg wasn't sure of last time he had experienced such a satisfying snog. Mycroft's head was tucked under his chin. Hair was mussed now and their shirts were a bit undone. “Well now..”

Mycroft chuckled against him. “Enjoyed that did you?” He murmured. Greg couldn't help a soft snort.

“If you can't tell you must have lost a good deal of feeling.” It was natural to tease. He let himself consider mussed red hair a bit. “yes I enjoyed it.” He confirmed. This earned him the shift of a body and the gentle press of a kiss. 

“Good..” Mycroft settled back down. He felt right there. Greg liked it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good cuddle. He's pretty certain his ex stopped that after the first year of their marriage. This was very comfortable.

“We could continue this in bed.” Mycroft murmured, Greg's ear twitched a bit. “I mean, the cuddling.”

“Oh? I thought this was... comfortable.” Greg mused. Mycroft chuckled softly.

“This couch is comfortable I agree. Slept here a few times.” He mused, making no move to get up. Greg wasn't inclined to make him move either.

It was the first of several nights like that. Mycroft was quite content with the slow pace. Greg managed to not expect any further pressure. Then one night he had to delay meeting. It was a particularly difficult case. The sort he hated getting with Sherlock gone now. It was almost midnight when the cab brought him to the townhouse. There was a light on in the den. He could see it as he moved up the walk. That didn't bode well. Mycroft had given him a key after the third night they had spent together. Greg quietly used it to let himself in, toeing from his shoes to head for the den.

His.. boyfriend? He wasn't sure if the title applied, but they weren't lovers yet. Mycroft was laying on the couch with an arm over his face. Greg moved over and was surprised when the hand reached up to grab onto his sleeve.

“Migraine, sit.” Mycroft mumbled. Greg carefully settled onto the couch, Mycroft's head settled in his lap. He slowly reached out and started to rub at Mycroft's temples. The ginger haired man sighed into that with his eyes still closed. It had the desired effect though now relaxing the politian. “How was the case?”

“A right mess.” Greg sighed, still rubbing gently. “Bad day?”

“mm.” Mycroft sighed, then shifted his eyes opened some. They were seeking out Greg's face. He looked far more tired and worn than usual. Greg knew he had a similar expression on his face. His fingers moved to brush Mycroft's cheek. “Sorry, can we just go to bed?” Mycroft murmured. Greg nodded, he nudged Mycroft up and stood himself. It was natural to wrap an arm around the other man as they headed for the stairs. Mycroft leaned on him, he felt rather than heard the sigh that left the other man. “I had planned a lovely evening.”

“Another time then.” Greg assured gently with a soft smile. Mycroft's arm tightened around him and they made it to the bedroom easily. He helped the politician undress, and found that his shirt had been loosened, pants unfastened as well. He considered the man who had settled into bed and quietly finished undressing. Slowly he settled into a now familiar bed and gently pulled Mycroft into his arms. They'd shared the bed before, though never in quite such a state of dress. Usually proper pyjama's were involved. It felt good though, Mycroft's bare back against his chest. He let his eyes close. They could talk about it in the morning.

Morning brought something new. It wasn't completely unusual to wake up in a different position with Mycroft than he'd fallen asleep, but he had to admit the politician’s hand in his pants was very new. It was a gentle movement, the way those fingers squeezed and tugged. It felt good. Lips pressed themselves to his temple gently. “Good morning” Mycroft murmured. Greg sighed, his hips rocking just a bit.

“Indeed...” He agreed with a soft smile. He turned his head lips brushing against Mycroft's nose. Then a kiss as the hand around him squeezed a bit. A soft groan left him. It always felt so different when someone else did this. Greg let himself relax into it, responding easily to Mycroft's touch. He let himself be rolled onto his back. He felt kisses trail, and then shifted blinking some as he realized the trail was moving lower on his torso. Eyes watched as sleep tousled red hair and the tip of Mycroft's nose nudged his stomach briefly, he sucked in slightly feeling self conscious. He wasn’t as fit as he'd been at 20. 

“Stop Greg.” Mycroft murmured, his hand stroked again and Greg felt his hips lift automatically. “I like that you aren't a six pack and all muscle. Do not fear.” Before Greg could respond he felt those lips at the base of his cock. His eyes fell closed and he bit back another groan. Mycroft didn't seem to hesitate. Those lovely lips moved, caressed and quickly wrapped around Greg with gentle teasing suction. All the DI could do was melt and let himself enjoy the touch of his, lover? Did this make them lovers? He didn't care. All he cared was that Mycroft didn't stop.

He didn't. In fact Greg wasn't sure he'd ever enjoyed a blowjob more. There were a lot of things he was experiencing all new with this relationship. He shifted some to look at his lover. Mycroft looked quite pleased with himself. “Do you..”

“I just wanted to wake you up.” Mycroft murmured, leaning in to nuzzle him gently, they kissed briefly. “Took advantage of the lovely dream you must have been having. Was I in it?”

Greg blushed and then found himself biting Mycroft's jaw briefly. “You might have been.” He teased. It felt so odd, how natural this all was. He kept coming back to that thought any time they were together. It was so natural. So right, even his ex wife had never responded so easily to him.

“I am sorry about last night.” Mycroft sighed, his head settled against Greg's shoulder. The silver haired man shook his head some. “It was horrid...”

“It's all right, I had to be so bloody late...” Greg assured quickly. He wondered what time it was. Rarely did they get a chance for a lie-in. Mycroft was usually out the door before Greg managed to finish his coffee when he spent the night. “You don't have to go soon do you?”

“Personal day. Unless a war starts or a major scandal..” Mycroft paused then smiled. “I am all yours...” The last was said a bit softly, almost asking a question. Greg shifted and kissed him quickly, it sounded wonderful.

“Picnic in the back then?” He suggested. He'd been hoping for a chance since catching a glimpse of the alcove back there. It was very private, and would give them a nice get away from the house itself. “Perhaps.... with a few pillows and some wine instead of that brandy?”

“Whatever you want.” Mycroft's eyes had lit up a bit. It had been a good suggestion. And if things progressed the way the politician hoped? There were worse places to lose ones clothing. “Get dressed.” With that the redhead moved to get up out of bed. Greg found his eyes following closely, he softly chuckled at the order. Half an hour later found them in the kitchen. The cook was assembling a basket for them. Greg was wrapped around a nice hot coffee, Mycroft was sweet talking some biscuits out of the cook. A blanket and a pair of pillows were stacked on the counter waiting.

Greg finished his coffee, the basket was presented and Mycroft had added a book to the pile of things. Greg gathered the blankets and other items while Mycroft took the basket. Inside was a plethora of finger foods, ranging from fruit and finger sandwiches to sweets as well as a couple bottles of wine and a few dishes. They headed out into the back, the ring of trees was just as snug as Greg had hoped. He put out the blanket and settled down. He watched Mycroft who selected a few things for them both to eat. He reached out and stole a bite.

“Greg.” Mycroft chuckled then shook his head. They relaxed now eating with light chat about Greg's job mostly. There was so much that Mycroft couldn't share about his own position and the requirements of it. When they got bored of that. Mycroft settled himself against a tree and Greg, feeling bold, put his head in the other's lap. He felt fingers stroke through his hair some and let his eyes close. Mycroft shifted then picked up the book and opened it with his free hand. The sound of his voice washed over Greg. For a while that's all they did.

Then Mycroft suggested some more food, and opening one of the bottles of wine. Greg agreed and got up somewhat reluctantly to get one of the bottles and open it. He poured out two glasses and re-corked the bottle before offering a glass to Mycroft. The other man smiled and let his fingers stroke Greg's before he took the glass properly. They settled in to eat, occasionally feeding each other. It was easily sweet, romantic and relaxing. A bottle and a half later, much of the food gone Greg leaned in to nuzzle against Mycroft. “I am, beyond fortunate.” He murmured softly.

Mycroft shifted to kiss him gently. “I feel the same.” He admitted. “I did not think you would ever see me this way.”

“And what way is that? Beautiful?” Greg murmured, he shifted to kiss the man a bit harder than some of the other kisses they'd shared. “Intelligent?” He lay another kiss gently. “Fascinating?” His lips moved to his jaw.

“Greg..” Mycroft shifted next to him, a hand covering that of the Detective Inspector's. “I think... all those things of you.”

“Mm then perhaps we should be seeing more of each other.” Greg murmured, his lips wrapped gently against the lobe of Mycroft's ear and he sucked gently. “And I do mean with less clothing..” He clarified with a low voice. Mycroft moaned softly, almost to low to be heard, but the redhead shifted now settling back onto the blanket. Greg simply moved with him, hands settling to each side. He leaned in to kiss Mycroft again, deeper this time with tongues tangling eagerly. Greg shifted his weight onto one hand the other moving to gently start unbuttoning the shirt Mycroft had pulled on. In favor of the relaxing nature of their outing the politician had in fact dressed down. Greg relished the chances he had to see him like this. In dark jeans, usually a button down, occasionally a plain jumper. Mycroft did look dishy in common clothing.

The buttons fell under his hand easily. The undershirt Mycroft had pulled on was pushed up, Greg slowly let his fingers fall to bare skin. His redheaded politican seemed to like that, shivering but shifting into the touch. He felt fingers in his hair again, the other hand was tugging at the teeshirt he'd pulled on. A week or so back he'd brought a few changes of clothes with him. It never hurt when one had a regular bedmate. He could feel Mycroft's fingers against his stomach, they brushed gently then dived easily for the zip on his trousers. He didn't brother to stop that. He pushed the undershirt up some more, then broke their kiss. Bravely leaning down to swirl a tongue around one of the dusky colored nipples on a creamy pale chest. Mycroft made a delicious noise and the fingers in his hair shifted some, pushing down a bit. Greg let himself allow it. Sucking briefly before he started to trail his lips lower. He had to build himself up. He wanted to do this for his lover. He just never had. What if he was horrible at it?

Mycroft only encouraged with soft moans leaving him and encouraging whimpers. Greg managed to get Mycroft's jeans undone. He pulled them down marveling at not needing to say a word for Mycroft to lift his hips easily, pants catching in his finger tips and pulling down as well.

Through the weeks, they hadn't tried to see each other undressed. Last night had been the most they'd gone to bed in such a manner. Greg couldn't help sliding his eyes over Mycroft. Taking in how he looked with his shirt undone, fabric pushed up over his chest and trousers halfway down his thighs. Mycroft's thin flushed cock bobbed a bit now that it was free and erect. Greg couldn't help comparing it to his own. Mycroft was a bit thinner, but longer, slowly he let his fingers curl around it. For a moment feeling the warmth, and surprising weight. The man under him moaned, hips raising into the touch. “Beautiful.” Greg breathed, his fingers stroked slowly over the firm flesh. It took a few minutes of watching Mycroft squirm under his touch to work up the courage to lean down and lick. A bead of pre-come had welled up, and was salty sharp on his tongue. Not bad, just different.

“Greg...” The strangled pleading tone was delicious. Greg licked again. His tongue swilling carefully, a touch like he recalled from this morning. “Greg...”

Instead of responding the DI shifted himself and carefully sucked just the head in between his lips. Getting a feel for the action. Mycroft rocked up. He shifted against it, letting more slide in. He jerked back with a cough as Mycroft sank to deep, hitting the back of his throat harder than he expected.

“Shit Greg..”

“I'm fine.” Greg shifted, rubbing his own throat briefly, looking up at his lover. “Just.. first time.”

“Hold my hips.” Mycroft encouraged. Greg saw the sense in that, it gave him a little more control over how much the redhead moved. His hands slid down to grip onto somewhat boney hips. For a man who struggled with his weight Mycroft certainly was sharply boned. Greg pushed that thought away though. His mouth descended again, taking in the taste of Mycroft now. He bobbed his head slowly, teasing and working gentle suction when he remembered. Mycroft responded beautifully to everything Greg did. Soft moans, slight attempts to move and pleading whimpers. However, all that didn't prepare Greg for when Mycroft came. This morning, his lover had eagerly swallowed everything Greg had to offer. However, the first sign that Mycroft was finding release startled him. He pulled back and found himself rewarded with a face covered in come.

“....oh god that's hot.” Mycroft groaned as he just sagged underneath him. Greg blushed bright and pulled his tee shirt off to wipe off his face slowly, feeling quite sticky. Mycroft pulled him up and eagerly kissed him however, rolling them over with surprising energy. Greg gave in kissing him back. His hands sliding over Mycroft's back, tee shirt and all, likely smearing some of the mess over his lover's shirt. Mycroft didn't seem to care, he was far more interested in snogging his silver haired love senseless. Greg could feel Mycroft half hardening against him again, it was almost thrillingly that he could do such a thing for his lover.

“I want to take you....” Mycroft murmured, kissing his jaw. Greg groaned at the idea. He did want that. Wanted to feel Mycroft. To be close to him in the way that only fully intimacy could provide.

“Okay.” He responded, his breathing ragged. His lips were caught again in an eager kiss. One that promised much much more. Greg knew it was a big step, more for him than for Mycroft. He trusted him though, oh did he ever trust the politician. 

Gentle hands tugged at his jeans. Greg easily shifted under them, letting the rougher fabric be pulled away. His own hands moved to help. His eyes drinking in every inch of Mycroft that was bared before him. He was unsurprised to find himself under a similar scrutiny. A rain of kisses brushed over his skin, across his stomach and over one hip. Greg shivered and shifted some. “You'll... have to instruct me,” the DI murmured softly. Mycroft seemed quietly amused and he was rewarded with a gentle lick which only made him groan. 

“Hands and knees.” Mycroft's voice was soft, easy to understand. “And hopefully there aren't any hidden rocks under this blanket.”

Greg couldn't help a bit of a laugh. He had to agree though. Nothing could sour this as fast as sharp rocks. When Mycroft was shifted back far enough he twisted himself, slowly moving to push up into this position. “Like this?”

“Mmhmm, We'll shift in a bit.” Mycroft's fingers slid down his spine Greg shifted into the touch some, it sent shivers through him. The soft snap of a bottle opening startled Greg and he couldn't help looking back to see. Mycroft had hidden a bottle of lubricant somewhere among the things they'd brought out. “I was hopeful.” The redhead murmured. Greg couldn't help shifting some at that, his cheeks pinking. He knew what had to come next, but the first questing finger made him jump. Lurching forward onto his forearm He found himself being awkwardly held.

“Relax.” Mycroft murmured, pressing his lips to Greg's side. His warm arm had slid around under Greg's hips a bit. His alert cock hit the skin and it made him shudder. “If you don't this won't go well. The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

“Sorry... I just..” Greg shifted himself trying to get oriented again. His knees already protested somewhat about holding his weight. Mycroft's arm slid and then he felt fingers curl around him. A groan left his throat, it was just enough distraction for Mycroft's finger to breech him. At first it felt odd, having something pushing into him like that. Greg shifted and felt Mycroft start to massage gently, soothing. Letting his head drop Greg took a few breaths, not wanting to get tense again. He focused on the stroking, the pleasure that gave him. He tried not to concentrate too hard as a second finger worked in, the stretching there felt, strange, good but...

“Fuck!” Greg pitched forward again, this time his face mashing into the fabric underneath him. Mycroft shifted some, fingers still inside him but stilled. Greg groaned lowly. What the hell had that been?

“Are you all right?” Mycroft's voice murmured in his ear. Greg turned his head some awkwardly.

“Do that again.” He muttered. Mycroft studied him and then the fingers twitched and Greg's own hands fisted up in the blanket. “What the...” He panted.

“Prostate.” Mycroft murmured. Greg felt the fingers shift some. “It makes all the other uncomfortable parts worth it.”

“Bloody hell...” Greg breathed, he tried to collect himself. It was easy to see that last bit though. The sensation was delightful. It made it hard to think and oh bugger Mycroft was doing it again. Greg twisted some, whining. “Mycroft please.... please I need.” He was hard, but he wanted more. He wanted to be pushed over the promising edge.

Mycroft however didn't do what he wanted right away. Hands moved, a pillow was shoved under him and his limbs were shifted gently with rewarding kisses. Greg started to wonder what was going on. Then it was obvious, he could feel the heat of Mycroft over him. The weight of his body gentle, there was a hand on his hip, and then something much more solid than two fingers pushed into him. The burn startled him, he twisted slightly. Mycroft was murmuring near his ear though, encouraging, soothing and slowly Greg found he was being filled. It caused an interesting, and delightful ache. A low throb that he found to be desirable.

“There.” Mycroft breathed, his balls lightly hitting against Greg. “Better?”

“Move... oh god please Mycroft move.” Greg shifted slightly, though it was harder to do now. His shoulder twinged in protest. Mycroft however gave him what he wanted. Shifting and pulling almost all the way out. A whine slid from his throat, something he'd never thought he'd do and then he was rewarded with the filling again. The rhythm was a bit quick, easy to adjust to. Greg gave himself over to the feeling. He let Mycroft control their motions. All he had to do was enjoy. He couldn't know how delighted Mycroft was to see him like this, to feel him shift underneath. If he could have seen the other man's face then he would have been further lost.

Climax found them in a tangle of limbs. Greg's arms had given out, he'd sunk down awkwardly. The mess under him was sticky, but the weight of Mycroft on his back felt very pleasant. He didn't want to move just yet. For long moments neither did Mycroft it seemed and then lips pressed to his shoulder. Slowly the other man pulled away. It was chilling despite the warm air. A groan left Greg involuntarily. 

“mm You look beautiful.” Mycroft murmured, settling to the side. Greg shifted to try to get comfortable and look at his lover but hissed as his leg cramped up. To long in the new position with to much weight. Mycroft's fingers quickly found the knot and kneaded it gently. Those lovley fingers working it loose so that Greg could settle. He blinked slowly at the redhead and then leaned in to kiss him. For a few moments no words were needed.

“That was...” Greg murmured as they parted again. “Wow.”

“mm I have stolen your words. My ego thanks you.” Mycroft teased, his fingers trailing some. “You don't... regret it do you?”

“Oh I might later, when I try to sit down somewhere.” Greg found himself joking. Mycroft could see the amusement in his eyes. “No, Mycroft, I don't regret it.” He shifted to cup the other man's cheek gently, thumb stroking a moment. “In fact, I hope you'll allow me to do the same for you some time.”

“Oh I think that could be arranged.” Mycroft chuckled, nuzzling into the hand a moment. They both relaxed now. This relationship was moving forward slowly and beautifully. Greg was finding he'd never been happier. They lay there a while longer, before Mycroft said a shower would help his muscles and that they should find clean clothing. The shower did help, so did the fooling around that occurred with them sharing a shower. 

“I feel as randy as a teenager again.” Greg mused, pressing kisses down Mycroft's neck. He held the other man against him, just feeling him there. Warm skin, soft. 

“mm, my libido hasn't been quite so active in a long time as well.” Mycroft tilted his head easily. Reluctantly the politician pulled out his grasp. “We'll get chances though. Anthea will help.”

Greg chuckled softly and with the same reluctance moved to get dressed. He knew this was far to good to be true. When they stepped out of the bathroom Mycroft's PA was standing there, typing away.

Apologies sir, but there has been a... “ Anthea paused and glanced up, considering Greg for a moment, before her eyes slid to Mycroft. “There has been contact from... Your brother sir.”

“What?” Mycroft actually sounded surprised. Greg found himself leaning against the wall, staring. “Anthea...”

“I thought that as well sir. One Molly Hooper is down in the parlor. She needs to speak to you. She brought this.” Anthea held up a phone, a phone which obviously had belonged to Sherlock. Greg ran a hand over his face. Mycroft caught his wrist and pressed a kiss to his hand before he moved to take the phone carefully, studying it. “Molly Hooper you say? The Mortician from Barts?”

“Yes Sir.” Anthea turned. “I'll tell her you'll be down shortly?”

“Yes of course.” Mycroft's fingers closed around the phone slowly, he pulled it against himself. She slipped from the room. “Greg...”

“Do you want me to come with you? I know Molly, she's a good woman.” Greg had managed to get off the wall. His arms slid around Mycroft now supportively, one hand moved to cover the one which held the phone. “She must have a reason for being here...”

“Yes, come with me.” Mycroft took a breath and then quietly pocketed the phone. They didn't hold hands, simply moved out together and made their way down to the parlor. There a nervous looking mousy haired young woman was waiting. Molly scrambled to her feet.

“Mr. Holmes...” Her eyes widened some as she spotted Greg. “Detective Inspector.... what are you...”

“Relax Molly. It's okay. I was here already... Ah, talking with Mycroft.” Greg knew the moment he said that she didn't believe him. They both were far to relaxed and lips still a bit kiss swollen. She however managed a brave smile.

“What is it Miss Hooper?” Mycroft murmured, all business. He motioned for them to sit and moved to settle himself into a chair. Molly flopped back down, her shoulders sagging some. Greg easily settled himself into a chair, well as easily as he could. He felt rather proud of himself that he didn't shift to much to get comfortable.

“Well..” Molly shifted, eyes flicking to Greg again. “Uh we didn't... Look you can't tell John anything. Do you understand? Either of you..”

Greg frowned a bit, studying her. Mycroft blinked then nodded. “We understand, what is it Miss Hooper. Please...”

“Sherlock's alive.” She rushed out. “He needs help, tracking down Moriarty's men. John CAN'T know he's alive. I can't stress it enough.” Molly twisted her hands together. “He'd never ever be able to keep it quiet if he knew, and it's too dangerous...”

“What do you mean?” Greg asked slowly, frowning. Molly shivered and then shifted some, eyes dropping.

“Moriarty was threatening the three people most important to Sherlock. Since he killed himself, Sherlock is... he has to track down and get rid of the network that Moriarty had built. If he doesn't, they'll come back for you, and Mrs. Hudson, and John...”

“Me?” Greg looked startled. Molly gave him a watery smile. He was a bit chuffed that he could be so important to Sherlock.

“Yes, John most of all. I know you can keep it quiet. I just, He need's Mycroft's assistance.” She looked at the older Holmes quickly. Mycroft was already nodding, his hand touching the pocket which held the phone.

“I'll do everything I can. I assume you will be our contact for now?” His voice was gentle, serious. Greg couldn't help feeling confused, but happy. Sherlock was alive. Maybe he'd even come back one day. 

Molly nodded a touch. “For now yes. He needs funds at the moment. He has access to my accounts...”

“It will be handled, speak with Anthea please.” Mycroft got up, touching the pocket again. “I expect, the information necessary to clear him is on this?”

“Yes sir.” Molly nodded quickly. “He trusts you can keep it safe until the time to use it.”

“I will. Greg, we need to discuss this. Thank you Miss Hooper. Anthea will see to whatever you need...” Mycroft started to move out. Greg quietly got up to follow him. He paused to look at Molly.

“I won't tell him.” She gave him a bit of a smile. “He can suss it out for himself.” Greg couldn't help a smile at her. She was a wonderful young woman. He wished that Sherlock could see just how much she cared. He nodded and then moved to follow Mycroft. The other was going to need a good deal of support to handle this. Support was something he could do.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, this is meant to be somewhat of a Prequel. I have no intentions of doing a second chapter to this story. Hope you enjoyed!


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